Can I touch your face?
by eely
Summary: Berwald is beginning to forget what Tino looks like.


AN: i dont really know how to begin an authors note  
i like the idea of blind sweden and i wanted to write something so tada a fic  
i dont own hetalia

Berwald touched his nose. Ran his hands through his hair. Touched his fingers to his lips. Trying to figure out what he looked like. It was sad, he couldn't even remember anymore. His memory of sight was fuzzy. He couldn't recall the last time he remembered a face correctly.

Being blind was harder than he thought it would be. Just have someone guide you around, right? No. Turns out you forgot what things looked like, too. And reading braille could be a pain in the ass when your finger moves down and you end up reading the next line when you are in the middle of the previous one. You can't build anything, you can't watch anything, you can draw, you can't write. You can hear. And that's almost the worst part.

He could hear the things people said about him, have always said about him. "I can't see, I can still hear,"he always thought. That didn't stop them though.

He sat, at the moment, in a chair he had put together years ago. He no longer remembered the exact color of it, or even the definite shape for that matter. He sat touching his face, trying to remember what it felt like to identify features if certain things.

He tried to remember the face of his lover, Tino. He tried imagining it, but nothing came to him. Something fuzzy, "He has blonde hair," he thought, "Or was it brown...?"He didn't really know. He never really bothered to ask.

He sat for a few hours waiting for Tino to walk through the door and set the groceries on the counter. He would've offered to help, but it would just take more time due to the help he needed. He had pretty much memorized where things in the house were, but where things were outside he wasn't sure. He often felt useless, sitting there and trying to say something along the lines of, "Sorry" because he couldn't help, but he didn't really do it anymore, because the reply was always the same.

"It's alright. it's not your fault," "Don't worry, you don't have to,"Tino had never blamed Berwald for being blind. Berwald always felt a little bad for it, though. He missed when they were able to do things together. Build things, draw things, things that required being able to see.

The moment he heard the door open, he shut his eyes. It didn't really have a purpose, since he couldn't see anyway, but it still sort of relaxed him. Tino greeted him with a cheerful, "Hyvää iltaa!" and Berwald answered with, "God kväll."

He waited until the Finn was finished putting the groceries in their proper places, be it the pantry, the freezer, or the fridge, to call him over. The shorter male walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?"

"I f'rget what ya look like."

There was a moment of silence. Tino sighed and ruffled Berwald's hair a little bit.

"That's okay."

"No it's not."

The Swede put a hand over his face and took a deep breath.

"I shou'n't forget what ya look like. 'S not a thing that should happ'n."

Tino looked down at the floor. He felt a little sad that Berwald couldn't remember what he looked like, but he knew he couldn't help it. After not seeing something for a while, it eventually fades from your memory. He couldn't blame the taller man for forgetting things.

"Can I touch your face?" Berwald asked after a while.

The Finnish man smiled a little.

"Yes."

Berwald reached out and found Tino's cheek. He moved his fingers over to his nose and stroked it. It was a large, round sort of nose. He moved up and felt along his eyebrows. They were rather thin and weren't very rough, unlike his own bushy ones. He hesitsted to touch around his eyes, for fear he would hurt him.

"They're closed." his lover said.

He touched around them, trying to figure out if the length of his eyelashes would be considered long or short. He moved back to touch the young man's ears, they were big and sort of stuck out. His fingers eventually trailed down to his lips. The Finn's were soft, a contrast to The Swede's bit, chapped ones.

Berwald opened his mouth to speak, but Tino pressed a finger to his lips. The younger one leaned in and kissed the other. It was a short, quick kiss, but each and every one of them meant everything to the both of them.

Tino took Berwald's hand, stood him up, and led him to the bedroom. They got in bed and pulled the blankets over themselves.

The Swedish man had fallen asleep rather quickly, the Finnish one glancing over and smiling. He whispered good night and kissed the other on the forehead.

That night, Berwald could've sworn he had seen Tino's face clearly in a dream.

AN: ah sorry about that ending whoops

translations wow

"Hyvää iltaa" - good evening in finnish  
"God kväll" - good evening in swedish

uh thanks for reading it means a lot if you got this far into this  
this whole thing is like a car crash in slow motion and i cant look away

also i dont own hetalia it belongs to hidekaz himaruya!


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